“This way.” Mathis paused, looking at the patch of undergrowth, before glancing at Galaden. “Are you sure?” As he spoke, he watched the elf’s eyes focus in on his lips, reading each word. He seemed to consider their merit for a second, then nodded, once. “Yes.” HeturnedbeforeMathiscouldrespond,movingoffagain,deeperintothewoodland.Mathissworesoft-ly before hurrying to catch up. “Don’t curse,” Galaden murmured as Mathis fell in alongside him, not looking at him. “How did you know I swore?” Mathis demanded. “People are predictable.” Mathisdidhisbesttoignorethespikeofembarrassment.Hewasstillgettingusedtotheelf’sstrangecompany. They’d been on the hunt together since Mathis’s ranger captain had assigned him to assist the Far Ranger.Theelfhadarrivedattheiroutpostalone,invokingtheancientcodeofthefrontiertocalluponthehu-mans to aid him in tracking an Uthuk Y’llan war party that had been on the rampage since their invasion of Kell wasscattered.Thecaptainhadhonoredthecodebysendingasingleranger–Mathis–toaccompanyGaladen. Apartofhimhadbeenexcitedbyhisselection.TheFarRangerswerenear-mythicaltothehumansofthesouthernbaronies.Accordingtothestories,theirexpeditionstookthemwellbeyondtheborderlandsoftheLatari,wheretheyhuntedandslewtheferalUthuktribesbeforetheirraidscouldreachmoresettledlands. Up close, Mathis was less convinced about the advantages of Galaden’s lack of hearing. The human rang-ercaughtasnappingsound,offtotheright,andhadanarrownockedinamoment,hissensesstrainingashesoughtoutwhateverhaddisturbedtheforest.Galaden,however,seemedunconcerned–hecarriedon,seem-ingly oblivious to the noise that had been caught by his fellow ranger. Mathis stood for a second longer, eyes scanningthesurroundinggreenery,beforeagainmovingafterhiscompanionwithafrown. HehadheardstoriesaboutGaladentoo,relayedaroundthecampfirebetweenthehumanrangersthenightthegauntfigurehadappearedatthegate.Foryearshehadservedasaliaisonbetweenhisfamily,theEvenarilam, and the other peoples of Latari, including the human ranger companies that patrolled the borders of southern and eastern Terrinoth. That had been before the power of the Uthuk had surged, before they’d put so manyoftheFarRangerstothesword.Galadenhadgivenupdiplomacyafterthat,dedicatinghimselftohound-ing the killers of his kinfolk. Mathishadaskedhimaboutitonthefirstnight.Theelfhadlookedathimforawhile,hiseyesuncom-

GALADENROBBIE MACNIVEN

fortablydiscerninginthefirelight,beforespeakinginhislowrasp. “OthersdiedthatImightlive.Iwillnotwastethatsacrifice.EveryUthukdeathgivesmyexistencepur-pose.” Mathis had wondered about those words in the days since, about the raw desire for vengeance laid bare. Galadenhadrefusedtobedrawnbyanyfurtherquestionsabouthispast.Infact,hebarelyspokeatallsincethen,andonlywhenhewantedtorelayinformationaboutthehunt. Therewasanothercrack.Mathisstoppedagain.Thistimehewassurehecaughtmovementtotheright,flittingbetweenthetrees. “Galaden,” he hissed as the elf kept walking, reaching out a hand and snatching onto his shoulder. “Stop!” GaladenfinallyhaltedandlookedbackatMathis. “They’re here,” he mouthed at the elf, who frowned slightly. Mathis found himself mentally cursing the captain for sending him out with him. In the stories the Far Rangers had been preternatural hunters, their deaf-nessnoimpediment,butGaladenseemedoblivioustothedangerclosinginaroundthem.Heappearedpracti-cally useless. Then the elf moved. Mathis prided himself on the speed of his draw. He could have an arrow on the string and on its way to a target in two heartbeats. But even though he was looking right at Galaden, he wasn’t aware of the elf slipping an arrowfromhisquiver,nockingit,andloosingituntilthefletchedashenwoodshaftwasactuallyzippingpasthisface. Forahorrifyingmomenthethoughttheelfhadbeenaimingforhim,untilheheardthefamiliarthudofanarrowhittingflesh,followedbyashriekofpain.Hespunround,hisgreenrangercapeflaring,instinctive-lysnatchinganarrowfromhisownquiver.Behindhim,lyingintheundergrowth,wasatattooed,semi-nakedUthukberserker,clutchingatGaladen’sarrow,burieddeepinhischest.Histhroatrattledashedied,likeadia-mondfang serpent. Thatwasthestartofit.Ahowlwentuparoundthemasfiguresburstfromthefoliage,allscarredfleshand crude, wicked blades. It was an ambush, and they’d managed to walk right into the middle of it. MathisloosedanarrowatthefirstsnarlingUthuktocomeathim,sinkingthebarbedshaftintohisface.The brute went down with a roar, clutching the deadly wound as the ranger tried to free a second arrow. Too slow. One of the demon-worshipers was on him, a notched axe raised. Mathis caught an impression of manic, bloodshot eyes, teeth sharpened to points and breath like a butcher’s shop. Rather than bring the axe hacking down, the Uthuk slammed into him, driving him back against the bark ofatreeandalmostsnappinghisbowbetweenthem.Mathisgrappledwiththeberserker’sstinkingbulk,beforerealizingoneofGaladen’sarrowswasprotrudingfromhisflank.TheUthukslumpedagainsthim. Hethrewhimoffanddrewthelong,curvedsteelofhishuntingdagger.Abruptly,however,therewasnooneelseforhimtoface.Theirattackers,adozenofthem,layscatteredthroughoutthetrampledundergrowtharoundthem,allbartheonehehadhit,stuckthroughwithwhite-fletchedallows.TherangerlookedtoGaladen,wide-eyed. Theelfdidnotreturnhisgaze.Hewaslookingatthesurroundingforest,poisedwitharrownocked,look-ing for all Mennara like a statue of Kurnos in his form as the huntsman. Mathistriedtofollowhisgaze,butsawnothing.Theforesthadgoneasstillandsilentasithadbeen

beforetheambush.Theentireclashcouldn’thavelastedmorethanthirtyseconds. “Galaden,”hehissed,wavinginanattemptatgainingtheelf’sattention.HelookedatMathisand,slowly,raisedasinglefingertohislips. Quiet. Mathis had barely understood the gesture before a terrible scream ripped through the forest. He cried out in agony, dropping his bow and clamping his hands to his head. The shriek was like a dagger to the skull, threatening to rupture his ear drums. He found himself on his knees among the Uthuk dead, moaning in pain. Mercifully,thenoisecutoff,thoughitlefthisearsringing.Hetriedtopickuphisbow,cringingatthepain in his head, before sensing a presence advancing towards him between the trees. He managed to look up, andfrozewithfear. An Uthuk woman was stalking towards him, tall and grey-skinned, clad in rough leathers and pelts. The baredpartsofherbodyweredaubedwithmarkingswritteninblood,herlean,cruelfacepaintedtoresemblealeering skull. Her head was crowned by a pair of horns that curled from her brow like a ram’s. It was a bloodwitch, a priestess of the Ynfernael, a consort of demons. Hemanagedtograsphisbow,tremblingfingersreachingforanarrow.Thebloodwitchscreamedagain.Thistime,Mathislostallhearing.Theagonywassointensehealmostblackedout.Thedemon-infusedhowlpushedhissensestobreakingpoint.Herealizedtherewasbloodonhisfingerswherehewasclutchinghisears. The Uthuk stood above him, sliding a wicked, curved dagger from her pelts. She had stopped screaming, thoughitmadelittledifferenceanymore–Mathis’shearingwasgone.Hetriedtoresist,raisingasinglehandweakly,buthisthoughtsweresluggishanddazed. Hedidn’thearwhathappenednext,thoughhesawit.Anarrow,white-fletched,slammedintotheUthuk. She twisted away at the last second, so that rather than piercing her breast it lanced into her shoulder. A lookoffurytransfixedherbloodiedface,justassomethinghitMathisfromtheside,knockinghimdown. ItwasGaladen.TheFarRanger,unaffectedbythebloodwitch’sscreaming,surgedinwithtwodrawnmir-rorblades.TheUthukparriedthefirstandsecondwithherdagger,herspeedalmostamatchfortheelf’s.Sheopened her mouth again, and the ringing in Mathis’s ears redoubled, right before one of Galaden’s knives took her throat. Blood sprayed out over the surrounding leaves. The Uthuk, her scream cut short, stared in apparent shock at her killer, before dropping to the ground. Mathis moaned, trying to rise. Galaden knelt before him, gently reaching out and pulling his bloodied handsfromhisears.Helookedupattheelf,andrealizedhislipsweremoving. Hetriedtofollowthewordsbeingspoken,butfoundhecouldnot.Galadenseemedtorealizethelookof incomprehension on his face, and instead signed something to him. It meant nothing to Mathis. He managed to shake his head. Galadenhelpedhimtohisfeet,beforemovingofftoinspecttheUthukbodies.Heremovedthearrowsfrom them, one by one, leaving only the broken ones. Mathissteadiedhimselfagainsttheblood-spatteredbarkofatree.Slowly,theringinginhisearsbegantodie,thoughtheycontinuedtoache.Herealizedhecouldhearthechitteringofaswiftfeather,somewhereinthe canopy above them. Galadenlookedupathimfromwherehewascrouchedoverthebodyofthebloodwitch,extricatinghislast arrow. “Youcanhear?”heasked.Hisvoicewasmuffled,butaudible–Mathisfeltasthoughhe’dhadrags

stuffedintohisears. “Yes,” he managed to say, clearing his throat. “Thank you… for saving me.”Galadensaidnothing,wipingthearrowcleanonaleafandslottingitbackintohisquiver. “They nearly had us,” Mathis went on, looking ruefully at the slain bloodwitch. “Incorrect,” Galaden said as he stood up. “I was aware of their presence. I simply wished them to believe the opposite. It is easier to kill them when they think they have the upper hand.” “So, you were using me as bait?” Mathis asked slowly, frowning. “I was using both of us as bait. It worked. Now that the war party are slain, my task in this region is com-plete.” Mathis quelled his anger, bending down carefully to retrieve his fallen bow, his balance unsteady. As he untiedthestring,hefoundhimselfrememberingthemomentsafterthebloodwitch’sdeath. “HowcanyouunderstandwhatI’msayingsoflawlesslyjustbyreadingmylips?”heasked,recallinghowhe’d been unable to understand a single word Galaden had been saying when the roles had been reversed. “Practice,”theelfrepliedtersely. Mathis grunted, looking out into the forest for a moment. “Icouldn’tdothesame,”hesaid,ponderingthedesperateskirmishandthedifferencesbetweenhimselfandtheFarRanger.“Hearingisessential.I’llneverbeabletounderstandhowarangercanoperatewithoutit.” He heard no reply. Wondering if his ears had gone again, he turned, frowning. As he moved, he heard a twigsnapbeneathhim.Oftheelfthough,therewasnosign,onlythebodiesoftheslainUthukhe’dleftbehind. Galaden was gone.